


Life's Like the Leviathan

by Twiranux



Series: Bring Your 'A' Team [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Day Off, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twiranux/pseuds/Twiranux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Full Working Title- Life's Like the Leviathan: It's All Just a Plot Device </p><p>It's a day off for the members of Fake AH Crew, and Jack and Ryan decide to go to the pier together and not call it a date. Things seem to go swell until they just manage to run into someone and tag along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's Like the Leviathan

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact! My first ever fic that broke past 3,000 word count. I started this in October 2015, and was redrafted 8 times.

“This right here? This is where we’ll hit.” Tattooed fingers slide across the map of Los Santos, motioning to the obvious red circled-in area. The more observant notice the small shakes of the hand rather than what it’s pointing to. Geoff scans the faces of his co-workers; some with eyebrows raised, scratching their chins, while the rest were nodding.

“Three stores, three of us. Michael, Gavin, and I hit one each. Here, here and here. We each go in with our own vehicles, in and out of site. Ryan, Jack, you two serve as our escape as well as backup. Helicopter miles away, out of civilian sight. Both of you will be equipped with snipers, and one of you pilot. And if _any_ of us fuck up, it’s over. Jail for long as dicks, and bail set high as dicks. Just...dicks everywhere."

“You say that for _every_ heist, Geoff,” Gavin scoffs, before getting hit in the gut by someone’s butt of a gun.

“Shut up, Gav. You’re one of the main reasons why we even fuck up.” A few oohs and snickers pop up, before falling silent for Geoff to continue talking.

“Anyways, this is it. We do this sometime this week. Today’s way too busy for me. Gotta check the arsenal, stock up on ammo an’ armor, also cash and other general shit. Just brush up on your ins an’ outs, be prepared. We gotta make a big comeback boys, or else Fake AH Crew is not gonna top the competition. No one does it better than us, no one _can_ do better than us.” 

Geoff throws his hand up into the air, dismissing the crew. 

He never really was as laidback as people thought. Geoff spends his days planning, and his nights drinking while his apartment is torn to shit again and again by the rabble rousers Michael and Gavin. He was no tyrant, he gave lots of free time and never had any issues with any of the other members, but when he was strict, it was for the better. It takes a lot out of someone to be the boss of the prestigious Fake AH Crew. But he doesn’t show it, or else other gangs will treat him as more a target than he already is. Over the years he grew more stoic and bitter to those not part of his crew or immediate family. He didn't want to crumble or break apart with anyone in general despite being a rather fragile man. The newer personality had to match the job or else he’s no real leader. He had already left a mark in the world that no material could erase.

Jack looks over to Ryan, who already is smiling at Jack. He offers his arm to Jack, which Jack shyly accepts it. Geoff decides to spectate this while throwing himself on his couch.

“What’s your inclined state of gender, lovely acquaintance?” Ryan flashes a grin, and Jack begins to blush.

“Either is fine, wordsmith. Just don’t go overboard with the fancy talk.” Jack guffaws, pulling Ryan a bit closer to him.

“It’s probably my only redeeming quality, I might as well make use of it.”

“Get a room, you two!” Geoff shouts out, to which Ryan rolls his eyes.

Ryan and Jack exit Geoff’s apartment, and take the elevator down to the garage. An array of expensive vehicles lay dormant within the rather large parking space, each polished recently.

“Just watch your boundaries today, Ryan. I know when you step out of your aro zone just to make me happier, and you know that’s never necessary.”

Ryan says nothing, but instead shakes his head.

{ . . . }

Ryan put the car in park, then exits the vehicle alongside Jack. The pier, considering the rather sunny season, did not have many walking around. The clamouring just as tolerable as the noises the attractions made, which was uncommon for such a famous pier. People were on line for the rides, others eating mounds of junk food. Some more productive citizens were exercising: jogging, biking, volleyball, and many other activities. Most of the lot were plugged in and listening to music or managed to excavate a stereo or some speakers. The lights of the attractions weren’t on considering it was midday, but one could feel the atmosphere of enthusiasm through the yelling of vendors and overwhelming smells.

“Here we are, Del Perro Pier. Your favorite, bud!” Ryan exclaims as he patted his pockets. Slowly his smile got crooked as he continues to pat himself down. An awkward hum escapes as he finally hides his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Ryan, it’s okay. You don’t have to make sure you have all 3 pistols and 5 knives on you. It’s supposed to be a day off, so relax.” Jack reassures with a light chuckle. “So come on, let’s go already!” 

Jack grabs Ryan’s hand, then bolts towards the entrance of the pier. 

Music, madness, and whimsy overwhelmed the ears, as people danced awkwardly in the middle of the boardwalk, stood in line, or ate in unnecessarily small outdoor tables. Equal amounts of children and adults were screaming, the joyous calamity seemingly never ending.

Ryan struggles to keep up, his feet trembling and stumbling over themselves as he dodges the crowds. Jack races over towards the game section, where the most standard of carnival games were to be found. A few scattered groups and couples were playing, and the pair decided to try out a simple ball game: throw the ball, hope to hit all the bottles, get a prize.

“Ryan, you’re a sharpshooter, right? Or at least good at aiming compared to me. You should try,” Jack suggests, his voice coated in sweet and sudden innocence.

“Really? Okay. Just tell me which prizes you want, I’m sure to win this easy game many times over,” Ryan snickers, followed by a wink. He turns to the game attendant, and waved his index finger to simply express: ‘One ball.’

The attendant sighs internally, then hands over the ball in exchange for 3 dollars. Ryan pauses for a moment, preparing himself to wind up for the throw. But he couldn’t. Something was keeping him grounded.

He inspects Jack, who then starts to sweat. After a few seconds of scanning, he realizes that Jack never let go of his hand. In fact, their hands are intertwined, and Jack’s hand continues to shake more. He could feel the blood coursing through his pal, his face getting more flushed the more Ryan stares at him, can’t help but to grip tighter.

Ryan shrugs it off, knowing that he’s probably fulfilling one of Jack’s many dreams. Ryan makes up for the potential lost momentum, as he commences to wind up for the throw. He secures his foot with most of his weight, calculating the exact force he needs and the velocity he requires to successfully knock over the bottles. He steadies his breathing, and as he gets calmer, Jack tenses up, still not sure whether to let go or not. 

In the following second, Ryan’s throw cracks the still air, the ball leaving a faint smoke trail from the hand to the bottles. The force not only obliterated the intended targets, but also tears a hole in the background of the stand. Jack’s mouth gapes, but no sound could manage to come out. 

The attendant nods in dazed approval, gesturing over to the handful of prizes to choose from.

“You can pick two, by the way; you guys seem to be here on a date...enjoy the extra prize.”

Ryan looks over to Jack, indicating that he has the power to choose. In turn, he points at two large stuffed bears, one brown and the other black. The game attendant hands over the prizes, and Jack decides to hold one in each hand. Ryan lets out a small chuckle, and Jack immediately stares at him, pseudo-judging him.

“What, Ryan?”

Ryan flashes a smirk and shrugs, before implying that they take a walk back to his car, to store the newly won prizes. He couldn’t let those stuffed animals spend the rest of the day outside, they would reek of the smells in the pier, and Jack would get tired of carrying them around so much. Or perhaps they might get misplaced or stolen. You never know who’s out and about in this city.

“I don’t have the right to... _bear arms_?” Jack follows this masterpiece of comedy by jiggling his new stuffed animals.

Ryan couldn’t help but snicker, as they finally reach his car, and put away the bears.

“So which one is mine?” Ryan asks, finally shutting the trunk and locking the car.

“You’re assuming I’m going to give you one?”

“I mean, you do those romantic gestures all the time, like giving me stuff, so...can’t I at least choose this once?”

Jack lets out a hearty laugh, before awkwardly falling silent, as they continue to wander around.

Jack didn’t want his heart to talk first before his brain. It always lead to more and more tense conversations about his true feelings that never bothered to disappear for Ryan. On most days he could handle talking about it jokingly, but internally he considered today to be a date, and everything else was thrown off.

Ryan enjoys poking fun at Jack’s so-called ‘romantic’ acts, as Jack seems to partake in making suggestive jokes toward Ryan. Their comfort with each other naturally reached that threshold, where both parties know that jokes are just jokes, and making fun of each other’s preferences is just a way to talk openly about it without getting too serious. They could consider each other best friends, maybe something more. As long as it wasn’t officially called a romantic relationship, they were okay with it.

They step into familiar territory, the rather rough carpeting, flashes of colors coming from some corners, and an overload of different kinds of sounds and noises. It was an arcade, with loud games. There weren’t a lot of people around since most of the games have been ported to more convenient apps on phones, and time really aged the machines. Some younger kids were on racing simulators, while the older teens hanged around the games that had those fake plastic guns. No place seemed more nostalgic than the Hung Drawn and Quarters arcade.

“Remember these?” Ryan reminisces, as the two stray into the land of failed dreams, clumsy mechanisms, and unbelievably slippery prizes...the land of claw machines.

“I was a little too old to be hanging around arcades, but I loitered in them nonetheless.” Jack simply nods in response, as Ryan digs into his pockets for some spare change to feed to the claw machines. “I was that rebel archetype, a real bully.”

“You ever won at that, the claw thing? You seem to have a knack for carnival games,” Jack points out, who is also now looking for coins.

“A handful of times, none for myself though. I always played for others.”

“So will you play for me? Win me something?” He then hands over some change to the man now prepared to get nostalgic.

“Sure--” He interrupts himself and quickly turns around.

Jack wasn't the one who said that. The voice was too light and not at all similar to his own.

That voice is familiar. It's hushed, yet still expressive and sarcastic. He could recognize his laidback tone at an instant, he heard that damn voice all too often. It was the equivalent to a ghost, or leftover residue. No matter how heists went, that voice always made idiotic remarks, but still managed to get the job done.

“What are you doing here?” Ryan growls, his hands automatically balling up into fists.

Jack gets in between the two, putting his hands onto Ryan’s. He gazes into Ryan’s eyes, which seem to be fixated on the other man. Jack slowly pushes Ryan’s hands down, then shifts his hands to Ryan’s forearms. He finally manages to shift Ryan’s glare to his warm and familiar presence, instead of the unexpected guest.

“Whoa there, it’s just me, Ryan. Calm down.”

It was none other than Ex-Fake AH Crew member Ray, who thought it was funny to push Ryan’s buttons. He meant no harm, but Ryan always took everything so seriously. He could mess around with Jack all he wants but gets no response with the exception of chuckles and genuine smiles.

Ray always wore his signature purple hoodie, but today in particular he decided to put on a beanie and carried around a satchel.

Even after Ray resigned, the three were still friends, hanging out every now and then. The three created a little hangout group, and they are always open to talking to each other about being not straight and keeping each other updated about that sort of thing. No one else seemed to understand their dynamic, but it meant a lot to them to talk openly about those things, especially since no one else seems to want to talk about it. 

But Ryan has been in surveying mode ever since they came to the pier. The worst time to come across Ryan was in this mode, he could kill a civilian just for looking at him wrong. Being so vulnerable and comfortable with Jack naturally caused him to be more suspicious of nosy people. Ray is worse off, as he is no ordinary civilian, but a criminal.

“Were you sent for?” Ryan demands. 

“No, I wasn’t. I just hang around here like any normal person would.” 

Jack crosses his arms, huffing.

It is a little weird how Ray popped out of nowhere, and was prepared with coins to give to Ryan, who happened to be in this arcade. It all seems a little too convenient.

“Then what are you doing here? And why did you just walk up to us out of nowhere? Couldn’t you have at least greeted us before annoying us?” Ryan sighs, facepalming.

“I saw your car parked back there earlier, but I didn’t know you guys would be here specifically. What, do you really think I was stalking you? I hang out here, I’m hip,” Ray tugs at his hoodie in a mock-thug manner. Ray paces around, his hands retreating into the pockets of his hoodie. 

Silence hangs over the three.

“Are you gonna hang around here all day?” Ryan huffs, glancing over to Jack and frowning a little. 

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Jack mouths, smiling reassuringly.

“I mean, if you guys don’t mind, that is. Hell, I’ll pay for anything and everything, my personal treat.” Ray then takes out his wallet from his back pocket, and reveals the rather large sum of money tucked in there.

“And no catch?” Ryan places his hand on Jack’s chest, as he tries pushing Jack behind him.

“Well, I have to be around to spend the money, don’t I? Other than that, nah. What’dya say?”

“As long as you don’t get us caught or in trouble,” Ryan warns.

“I won’t. I’m a criminal, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Ray leans against a claw machine, and takes out his phone. At an instant, he starts snickering.

“You know, when I switched jobs, I pretty much just dropped the ‘b’ in ‘member’.”

Ryan turns his head toward the exit, then glances over to Jack. Jack raises an eyebrow, purses his lips, and tilts his head in response. Ryan lowers and raises both his eyebrows, and points his eyes toward the exit, and attempts to also point with his nose. Jack then gets the metaphorical light bulb.

“Hey, do you--” Suddenly, Ryan’s phone vibrates. He checks it, and notices that he has a notification from Ray.

“ **get it? member to memer** ”followed by a picture of Ray holding his index finger against his lip.

Ryan furrows his brow, but follows through, and checks the next notification, also caused by Ray.

“ **when bae gets ur drift** ” followed by a blurry picture of Ryan standing close to Jack, and Jack making his rather comical face of enlightenment.

“Anyways. Do you want to grab some cotton candy or go on another ride?” Ryan finally uses his thumb to point to the exit. 

“But I thought you wanted to do a claw game?” Jack frowns exaggeratedly, and takes out the coins Ray gave them earlier. “Do you want me to? I mean, I’ll play for you.” 

“I’m just kidding!” Jack hums playfully, as Ryan gestures they start walking out.

Ryan whistles, which gets Ray’s attention. Ryan is known to be the one using a whistle method within the criminal world, as he doesn’t want to give away names when trying to get someone’s attention in the public. However he can’t whistle on any sort of electronic device; last time he did he almost blew out Geoff’s ears because of the amplification he didn’t take into consideration.

“You know the whistle thing is still stupid, right?” Ray asks mockingly, but Ryan fails to hear the ex-crew member.

The three exit the arcade, with Ryan looking ahead, Jack shyly glancing over at Ryan every now and then, and Ray busy on his phone, playing a game. Sunset is minutes away, and less people were now loitering the pier.

“I gotta give these back to Ray, though. I’d get too guilty with these in my pocket all day long.”

“You kidding me?” Ryan moves his face closer to Jack, and tones down his voice. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Of what?”

“One of my assassination clients spread the word about Ray before. Last week, that guy I was working for talked all about him. He says Ray’s one of the best pickpockets in town. Ray does any and all kinds of robbery, and he’s supposedly a legend. So I doubt that money is even his.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that. I’m not one to get up in anyone’s business like that...How’d that guy know Ray so well?”

“I asked him that, and all the guy responded that he himself was a criminal, just low-tier. He said to remember the name ‘J-doolz’, whatever that means. Gave me his business card and everything. It was all too professional.”

Ryan takes out his phone, and proceeds to remove his phone case. He searches his hidden stack of criminal business cards, draws the one he mentioned, then hands it to Jack’s left hand.

“Let’s see here. Aspiring criminal J-Doolz. Break-Ins, Car Theft, Loud Stuff. Call here...Interesting for a low-tier to be advertising like this, no?”

“I’m sure he’s known. I saw that same business card on Geoff’s desk earlier. He has some connections, I assume. I sure as hell never heard of him.”

A grumbling sound emerges from nowhere, as Jack places his right forearm against his stomach. Jack looks away, and attempts to hold back his dumb face from getting red.

“You wanna eat at Pearl’s Seafood or something?” Ryan chuckles, drawing more attention towards Jack’s apparent hunger.

“Well, I’d rather go on the Leviathan first then eat rather than the other way around.”

Jack hands back the business card, and Ryan places it back into his phone case, and snaps the case back up.

“Good point, let’s go with your plan.” 

Ryan whistles at Ray again, in which Ray reluctantly complies.

“I’m not a dog, you know!” Ray retorts.

The line for the Leviathan appeared to be long and daunting. Ryan looks up to inspect the track of the apparent beastly ride. He wishes the track would be more intense and longer, but Jack didn’t seem to mind. Ray couldn't care less and sort of wished he didn't tag along. The three wait in the back, slowly inching toward the entrance of the ride. 

“Yo, do you think I’m tall enough to get on?” Ray asks, placing his hand on the top of his head.

Jack laughs at the joke, and only after hearing Jack did Ryan laugh as well. 

“How much is the ticket again, by the way?” Jack wonders, looking over to Ray, who agreed to pay for it either way.

“Some arbitrary number, I’m sure,” Ryan comments, and then stares down Ray, furrowing his eyebrows.

Ray looks back, starting to shake. Ryan being very serious, huffs with a bit of a growl, and continues to stare. He glances over to Jack, then back to Ray. Ray nods. 

He just swore to not bother Ryan or Jack until Ryan says otherwise. If Ray were to break his word, Ryan would not hesitate to rip out his weak little spine and shove it down Ray’s own throat. Ryan needed this moment to be perfectly serene for Jack to open up properly again. Ryan didn't think that it was himself that he was protecting, and that he wanted to open up to Jack. His tough act had to be maintained.

Jack, ignorant to the tense situation between Ryan and Ray, looks up to the sky.

“I haven't seen stars since I was a kid. I don't think I will see them again for a long while,” Jack speaks up, reducing Ryan back down to being vulnerable and calm.

They start forgetting about the outside world, tuning out the small noises and blaring lights, and focus on themselves.

“Me neither. The city life takes it away, doesn't it?”

Jack nods, and bravely moves closer to Ryan. His right arm brushes up against the rather soft fabric of Ryan’s t-shirt. It was more than rare to get Ryan out of his signature jacket; he wore it often, even in public. He didn’t show concern if people noticed his jacket in public, since no civilian recognizes him by face. Today is different and special just because of this difference. He rests his head against Ryan’s shoulder. The scent consists a tad bit of the same expensive cologne that on his jacket, but the obvious leather and gunpowder scent minimized. Instead it consisted of something more comforting, almost paradoxical of Ryan’s whole being. Jack would have never guessed such loveliness to resonate from his rather brutish friend.

The smell of jasmine and faint hints of lavender on Ryan overtakes that of the surrounding scents. Jack couldn't stop himself from unchaining his nervous heart and melt at the thought of a soft and gentle Ryan; he embraces the home-like comfort, metaphorically and literally.

Ryan tilts toward in response to feeling a weight shift, not minding Jack’s sudden desire to lean against him. He decided to comfort Jack further by coolly placing his hand onto Jack’s left shoulder.

“You’re just oh-so scared to get on the Leviathan, huh?” Ryan whispers softly, his face a few inches away from hitting Jack’s glass frames.

“N-no…” Jack mumbles, his whole face turning red.

Ray, meanwhile does more third wheel related activities, such as playing some game on his New 3DS XL, and putting on headphones to listen to his music. He decided earlier on to pretend that nothing was happening between his two friends behind him. The third wheel path he decided to take today didn't require him to poke in every time, and let things take place without his help.

“Why are you shaking then?” Ryan gently clasps Jack’s right hand, hoping his rather hushed voice brought distraction from the outside world.

“Because...you’re really close...and…” Jack shyly nudges against Ryan. 

“Do you...do you want something? Do you want to talk about it, whatever it is?” Ryan inquires, uneased at the idea of not being able to help with what Jack is suddenly trying to deal with.

Jack shakes his head. “I’m good. You just make me all fuzzy.”

He then works his way to properly holding Ryan’s hand. He squeezes Ryan’s hand, reassuring himself that this was not just some kind of dream. His beard ruffles against Ryan’s short sleeve as he looks down to the ground, now avoiding any eye contact from strangers and potential spectators.

“You cold? I can get a jacket from my car--”

“No, no; I’m good, really. Y-your warmth is enough…”

Ryan takes note of Jack’s road to tranquility. His breathing steadies, and his eyes seem to flutter faintly. His heartbeat calms, and Ryan could feel his sheepish yet calm radiance being contagious, as he himself starts to grin. 

“Are you sleepy, Jack?”

“No, just comfortable. I usually don’t like lines, but with you I could stand here all day,” Jack admits, sounding chipper.

Inevitably, the group finally make their way to the front of the line, the ticket holder looks upon the trio, giving a warm and friendly smile.

“How many?” The ticket holder asks, preparing a roll consisting of small paper tickets.

“Three please, thanks.” Ray finally speaks up again, taking off his headphones and closing his handheld console.

“That will be twenty-four dollars,” they state, as Ray exchanges the exact amount for 3 nicely shaped rectangles. Ryan swipes two tickets, one for himself, and one he gives to Jack.

Step by step, the trio climb the staircase and approach their designated car. By luck, the Leviathan’s car can only hold up to four passengers: two in the front and two in the back. Since their party consisted of three, they could have a carriage to themselves without a stranger intruding personal space.

“Front, I’m assuming?” Ryan gestures to the seats.

“Absolutely, yes!” Jack giddily slides over all the way to the left, then immediately buckles up.

Ryan scoots over taking up the rest of the space. Ray takes up the back portion, and pretends to put on the seat belt. The ride operator starts to go over the basic safety instructions, but sadly, the group manages to tune it all out. Ryan turns toward Jack, who gives a very child-like expression. 

“My dear, let’s enjoy the ride,” Ryan says, as the chain of the Leviathan starts hauling the train upwards the first mechanical hill.

Ryan looks behind him to inspect Ray, who appears to be half asleep. In truth, however, he was a bit bored, and couldn't escape the locked down metal bars and can’t get to his satchel. However, he could still manage to reach into his pockets. Ryan gives a thumbs up to him, and he nods. The rule of not bothering them was now lifted, and Ray is free to cause chaos once more. In honor of his regranted freedom, he starts digging into his pockets. He retrieves a small, wooden train figure, and for some odd reason places it near his mouth. Ryan ponders as to why Ray even has such an object in the first place.

Two believable train sounds come from the train whistle. Ray then does his best attempt at a sitting hip thrust.

Ryan rolls his eyes, and faces frontward. Jack is already squealing in excitement, and they haven’t past the apex of the hill. After that, all he could think about is how happy Jack sounded. The only thing on his mind was Jack, truly.

The ride ended even before Ryan could manage to take in that he, along with the roller coaster, was in motion. The metal bars prop up, then Jack and Ryan untether themselves from the car. Ray literally jumps off the car and onto the platform. 

“4/10 would never go on again,” Ray comments with a heavy sigh.

The three exit down the staircase, then continue walking; just mere observers of the world around them. Constant chattering now lowered to more audible, intimate conversations. Hollers from food stands no longer occurred every other second, and only now has the air been cleared of the smells of food and people. The lights on the rides turned on, and the hush of humanity finally follows, allowing the waves of the ocean to be heard, brushing softly against the supports of the pier. Even the albatross and seagulls seem to have exhausted themselves, roosting on top of the bright streetlights.

They finally reach the bottom of the steps, the large restaurant seemingly looming above them. Their feet at this point are sluggishly trudging along the rickety wooden planks. Ryan is the first to get to the top of the stairs, still in fairly good posture, while both Jack and Ray lean against the railing to help carry their respective weight up the tiresome steps, breathing louder than usual.

“Are you guys really that tired already? Come on, it was just a short walk and some stairs.”

“Uh, no. Clearly, I’m just being the great actor that I am,” Ray places his hand on his heart, each word heavy on his lips. He finally manages to get on the top step, with Jack following right behind.

The three enter the restaurant, with Ryan leading. Ray surveys the area, never experiencing fine dining before, or at least not as a third wheel. He never expected Jack and Ryan to grow so close to one another.

Instead he chose to believe those that said that they actually hated each other. He could’ve just asked him themselves about it. How idiotic of people to make such rumors like that, it meant nothing in terms of how efficient they were at their work, but instead it focuses on their level of comradery? Criminals seems to be just as gossipy as regular civilians, or maybe even more immature than normals.

Jack pulls out a folded handkerchief to wipe his forehead and glasses with, as Ryan prepares the group a table for the evening. Ray decides to approximate the expenses in foresight, and checks the wallet for any credit cards he might use, as well as the amount of paper money within it. Seeing a potential joke, he takes a picture of the wallet widely opened.

“ **$$cash money$$** ”, he titles, as he sends and then snickers at his own joke. 

“Alright guys, we’re good for the evening. This gentleman over here will be leading us to our table,” Ryan extends his arm eastwards, as the two start following the said gentleman, then shortly reaches for his phone.

Jack looks over to Ryan, noticing his rather irritated state. Ryan glances back, which his face instantly lightens up and shows a sincere smile. Jack, in response, starts to get visually flustered.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom right quick; thanks to you guys, I’m gonna vomit.” Ray settles his hands into his pockets, moving away from the table.

“What’s up with you?” Jack chuckles out, tracking Ryan’s movement as the two sit down.

“Ray’s been sending these stupid messages and joking around. Kinda annoying, but I didn't want to bring it up because it would cause more problems than it would solve.”

Ryan places his phone on the table, in which it instantly starts vibrating. He sighs, and checks to see what Ray sent this time.

“ **#3rdwheellyf** ”, followed by a very blurry picture of the carpet flooring of the restaurant.

“Oh, really? Figures...Did he tell you not to tell me?”

“Yep,” Ryan answers.

“Is he, like, shitposting again?”

Jack begins to wonder why he’s acted so blind to Ray’s obvious yet harmless sense of mischief. Maybe it’s been so long since they truly hung out like this, perhaps he has forgotten about little details concerning Ray.

“Yep,” Ryan restates.

“Oh, Ray. That idiot. It’s not that bad, is it?” 

“Not really, no.”

“I knew it would just be a harmless kind of annoyance...Still…” Jack trails off, unsure as to how to continue the conversation. 

He looks down awkwardly, taking his phone out and then looks at his lock screen. It’s one of Jack’s favorite pictures: A picture of him and Ryan standing close together, Ryan having one arm around him, the other holding the camera. They both look content, almost comfortable where they are. Today didn’t feel as perfect; something has been stopping Jack from being his regular self. 

“Everything alright, pal?” Ryan scratches his scruffy beard in concern.

“Yeah, just--” Jack looks up, and his eyes lock up with Ryan’s. 

Ryan continues to stare back at Jack, now fixing his hair to all go one way. Ryan seems happy, and not particularly bothered with the idea of looking at Jack for a prolonged period of time. He figured that Jack wouldn’t mind much of what he does at all. 

Ryan nonchalantly reaches across the dining table to sweep away some of Jack’s loose hairs, and neatly tucking them behind his friend’s ears.

It was unbelievable to Jack how the eyes that everyone in Los Santos fears happen to be the pair that Jack wishes to look into the most. Jack fights internally, to stop his hands from hiding underneath the desk and dare to clasp Ryan’s; the hands that were so gentle for someone considered so cruel and heartless. Without knowing it, Jack licks his lips and embarrassingly makes an audible gulp and sigh. For once, he talks first before truly articulating words more accurate for his thoughts.

“See, the irony here Jack is that I’ve been perfectly comfortable throughout the entire day. It’s you that’s not okay with being on the same level of comfortable as me. Believe me, Jack, whatever you’re thinking about right now is not crossing any sort of line.”

“You’re just really good looking; like, everything about you wants me to constantly hang out around you and keep obnoxiously asking to take pictures with me. Also, you’re just caressing my face because you know I appreciate it...not because you feel something for me, is it?”

“Wow..that’s a lot of information that I already sorta knew.”

Ryan pauses, only now realizing his hand still, in fact, brushing against Jack’s face. He finally decides to pull his hand back. Ray finally returns from his journey to the public restroom. He takes his seat, removing his signature hoodie, and neatly placing it on his chair. This reveals a fake tuxedo t-shirt, which Ray almost decided not to wear.

Jack and Ryan pause their discussion, and turn towards Ray, and all three start staring at one another.

“What? It counts, I got the bow tie and everything!” Ray points to the little details within the shirt design.

“Hey, you’re better dressed than the both of us, technically. We just find it weird how, out of all the days to wear a fake tuxedo shirt, it’s today.”

“Uh? Oh, oh, yeah; it’s pretty weird..”

Ryan turns back to Jack, continuing the previous conversation, despite Ray’s presence.

“Anyways, that rhetoric really got the best of your argument, huh? Except that I don’t find it that annoying at all, really. I am your friend after all, isn’t that what friends do? Hang out, drive around, go to places and take pictures or something?” 

“Friends don’t do what you just did...t-that was weird! Don’t ever do that again...in public...” Jack stammers.

“What the fuck did I miss? Do I need to go back to let this conversation continue?” Ray points toward the restrooms, but Jack dismisses his questions by frantically shaking his head.

{ . . . }

The three finally exit out of the restaurant, stomachs only half satisfied due to the expensive prices that even Ray couldn’t manage to pay with the free money.

“I wanna go home now,” Ray whines, as he pulls up his hoodie over his head. “I have more important things to do, like play video games.”

As Ray groans and walks quickly toward the parking lot, Jack and Ryan decide to stay behind and take a nice stroll.

“Mine or your apartment?” Ryan nudges Jack, then takes out his car keys.

It had been one or the other for a while now, as it was more convenient for saving gas, electricity, and overall more comfortable to sleep with company over.

“Whomever's bed is softer,” Jack answers, of which a yawn follows.

“Were you breaking down a lot today because we had Ray tag along?” Ryan didn’t take notice of such behavior until now.

“Yeah... It was weird to be myself when someone I knew, that wasn’t you, saw me acting around so...casually. I didn’t want Ray to think I was bothering you if I was acting normal.”

“It’s fine, Jack. As long as you’re okay.” Ryan pulls Jack close and leaves a kiss on his forehead.

“Let’s just never invite someone to be our third wheel ever again.”


End file.
